


Doing it Right

by harrietriddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus adopts Harry, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, But not OP, Kinda..., Magically Powerful Harry Potter, Master of Death Albus Dumbledore, Master of Death Harry Potter, Master of Death Tom Riddle, Multi, inconsistent storytelling, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:01:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28830831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrietriddle/pseuds/harrietriddle
Summary: Albus, Harry and Tom are given the chance to have a re-do. Thrown back to 1943, they must adjust to their mission to fix things and their new lives.
Relationships: Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald, Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 11
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 

It's been a long run. At 152 years old, The Savior of the Wizarding World, Harry James Potter was ready to take his last breath. He remembers as Ron, George and sooner than he'd expected, Hermione too have succumbed to Death. He thinks of holding Ginny's hands as she breathed her last too. It has been decades since they've passed and he was ready to join them in the afterlife. 

He supposes, he is comfortable, here in a St. Mungo's bed with his children and grandchildren surrounding him. Murmuring sweet sayings of gratefulness and support. He smiles through wrinkled and aged eyes. No words were needed, they knew what it meant - he was happy, he loved them - and that was enough. The air was getting colder by the minute and his emerald orbs, for the final time closes. 

His mind flashes back through all the adventures, oftentimes more tiring, than not. He remembers meeting the Weasleys then Hermione. His first classes with McGonagall, Flitwick and Snape. The final battle. He sees himself and Ginny on their wedding day - and he remembers the first time he holds his children as Ginny tiredly sleeps. It was getting harder to breathe, he noted. And the only things that remained within his notice outside of the memories, were the quiet sobs of James, Albus and Lily. He was sad to leave them, but he knew that _¹'flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade, they have their seasons so do we.'_ And this, _this_ was his Autumn. 

He was more than grateful and beyond fulfilled. So, indeed, it HAS been a long run and it was time to rest. Surrounded by his loving family, Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, dies. 

\-- 

White. It's the first thing Harry sees after he opens his eyes. He was in King's Cross. Limbo. He remembers Dumbledore and the Horcrux here. For a while, he just stands there waiting for something to happen. Maybe, death will pop up? He chuckles. He doesn't really know what to do, so he just stands there confused. He never really thought that he would be back here, he had assumed that he would simply _move on_. 

He realized that he looked the same as he died. His hair that was once raven-black and untamed remained aged; grey and as flat as they would come. ² _Only the eyes have retained their youth_ , Harry thought. The vivid green orbs that made the the forests' greens pale in comparison, glassy and full of life - truly the windows to Harry Potter's beautiful soul. 

It made sense that he looked the same. _Dumbledore looked old the last time too_ , he thinks. 

Dumbledore. He missed the man. He had plenty of time to get over the betreyal but Merlin did it hurt. Harry realized far too late that like the wizarding world, he too had thought Dumbledore infallible, he too had looked at the man with starry-eyed wonder like the rest that he never really knew who he was. Some decisions he understood, some he still doesn't. But he knew that somewhere behind Dumbledore's schemes that the man had cared for him. Maybe not in the way Harry had wanted for him to care but care all the same. He was much older and wiser than the 11-year-old child he once had been and now, he was finally able to see who Albus Dumbledore was. Albus who was a manipulative man. A man who loved the wrong person, one who once believed in the wrong cause , yet one that so adamantly believed in redemption. No. He _yearned_ for it - for himself. A great man but a fallible man like the rest. A man much like Severus, littered with imperfections. Never light, never dark. But grey. Firmly grey. He will alwas hold a special place in Harry's heart, he was his grandfather, his mentor, and one of the few people that he trusted the most. 

Harry's eyes lingered upon the familiar station, observing its clean white walls and embossed arches opposed to the real, time-weathered and dusty-aired King's Cross. 

Passing through the wall between Platforms 9 and 10, the sight of the Hogwarts Express sent him more waves of nostalgia. He remembers his first and last ride on this train. This, this was his ride home. 

_"...you can, say, board a train." Dumbledore said with that ever-knowing twinkle in his eye._ He planned to, but something- a figure of a man, he decides- just a bit further caught his eye. 

Harry has all the time in the world. He followed the silhouette and to find that he is, face to face with one, Tom Marvolo Riddle. 

\--  
_135 years ago_

Tom Marvolo Riddle was dead. After all the shit he did to try and secure his life - he was dead. He sighs. Ironic how Dumbledore, a man without any horcruxes dies at a 115, while he, _Lord Voldemort_ with _seven horcruxes_ dies a muggle's age of 71. He scoffs derisively at the thought. 

_So this is Limbo_ It was...white - for a lack of better words. And it seemed like he was in King's Cross, _how... peculiar_. To be honest he really didn't know what he expected but he was sure it wasn't this. Not that he was complaining, things could be worse after all, he could be in hell, for one. After making sure he was immortal it was useless to ponder on such thoughts as to what the afterlife might look like. Even so, he still had his childhood memories of religious education to draw expectations from and he associated afterlife with heaven, hell, purgatory - weirdly enough the afterlife is King's Cross. 

Dying was...odd. He thought of the moment the killing curse rebounded the second time. _As if the first wasn't horrible enough_ , his lips pursed at the thought. ³For an unforgivable, the killing curse was surprisingly humane, he muses. It was easier than falling asleep. 

He feels empty. His soul pieces are scattered. He is broken. He knows. And apparently dying causes enough sanity to return to know that, he's fucked up. _Badly_. 

\--  
_Present_

Tom raises his perfectly sculpted brow, "Expelliarmus? Seriously?", he scoffs. "I threw a _killing curse_ at you. And you counter with Expelliarmus?", he chuckled then gave a wry smile. Shaking his head he said, "You are a very peculiar man, Harry Potter." 

"Riddle", the boy's - well, old man's - eyes widen, mouth slightly parted. 

"Yes, that's my name.", he drawls. 

Potter turns an interesting shade of pink at that. "Y-yes, well, it wasn't one of my best moments." He stuttered out. "It just popped out.", he clears his throat. 

"I could tell." 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Well, this is limbo. Horcruxes, remember? Or are you too old to remember that?" He said, looking entirely too smug. He was mocking Potter, he was aware. But really, he's waited quite a while (a long while) for anyone to arrive - and now that someone has - Harry Potter at that, looking more wrinkled than a raisin, he might as well have some fun. 

Harry scoffs. "Obviously. Growing up one myself, I could say it's one of those things that's hard to forget even at one's age." 

It's unfair. He remembers how Riddle looked like during his second year and its unfair how, he and Dumbledore would look as they died while Riddle gets to look like his Adonis-like 16-year old self. He doesn't even realize that he was eyeing the man until Riddle raises a brow at him and looks at him expectantly. 

"If you're going to wait for a compliment you won't get one, Voldemort." Harry snarks. It was Riddle's turn to stare at Harry. 

After a moment's silence Riddle snorts, a sneer already formed in his face - seemingly aware of Harry's thoughts, he says, "Apparently, my soul has died earlier than my body has. So while my body died 71, when I pieced my soul back here, I returned to the original age I tore- killed it at sixteen. " 

_Oh._ , Harry thinks. "Oh.", his intelligent reply. 

"Yes. _Oh_ " 

"Wait...what? _Piece_ your soul? But that would mean...?" Harry's brows furrowed. He remembered something Hermione said _remorse_. That was the only thing that could repair your soul, true remorse for the life that you took and the lives that were affected for what you did. 

"It took me a while, but yes." Riddle nodded slowly. 

"Your are whole again, then. But why are you still here?" 

"Same reason I was afraid of dying I the first place." He shrugs. Alive, Tom Riddle thrived in knowing - to know what his enemy fears, what his followers love, what people around him want. _Knowledge is power_. Not knowing has always left him unsettled - it was as if he was swimming in shark-infested waters waiting to be bitten. As a child, he had come to fear death, was there really heaven or hell? Or was there nothingness - where you would be left unnamed and forgotten. "I hated not knowing then - I still do now. I have done terrible deeds in my life, more than any other man. I have hated, I have hurt, I have murdered, tortured countless souls and ripped my own. I do not know what awaits me after that train. Would it be another life? Peace? Judgement?" 

Harry frowns. "I see." He nods in understanding. 

\-- 

It doesn't take long for them both to realize that they were no longer talking as Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived and Tom Marvolo Riddle, as Lord Voldemort but as Harry, _just Harry_ and Tom, _just Tom_. Plain and unguarded, pure and untainted. 

The two walk in silence for a while, and when they find a bench along the seemingly endless path, the two sat down and continued in their own musings. 

It was Harry who broke the silence, "I don't like it." Turning his head to look directly into Tom's ocean-like eyes. 

Tom tilts his head, "Being dead, you mean?" 

"No. I've been dead before. I don't like how even after death, you still allow your fears take away the best of you." 

"The best of me?" 

"I've never known much of you. Not personally at least. But I've never really thought of you to back away from something just because you were afraid. I know you felt it, when the horcruxes were being destroyed I mean, back then maybe it was a mix of insanity and pride but even in the final battle, I knew that you knew you were going to lose. But you never stepped back. Not in the orphanage, not in Slytherin - you never backed off, you just..." Harry shrugs having lost his train of thought. 

Hearing Harry say that was the farthest from the truth. Because he did back away, Tom thought. He was afraid of being hurt again and again, so he closed himself off, he didn't need to trust anyone. He didn't need to fit in - he just had to be better, to be the best. It didn't matter as long as he was. Even as a child, most of his accidental magic and his actions were based on fear. It was how he survived. 

"Always the savior, are you Potter?", the words barely a whisper. 

"Only to those that need it." Harry looked at the man again whose eyes were more vulnerable than he ever thought they could be. "I forgive you." 

Tom looked shocked at this. _How can the boy just-_ "I-, How can-?", his eyes now wide, wild with unbidden emotions. 

"I've thought a lot about it you know." Harry shrugs, as if his previous statement didn't just... Tom's train of thought was cut off when Harry speaks again," You said it once, there was so many likeliness between us - both orphans raised by muggles, horrible people at that, both half-bloods and both parselmouths although that last part didn't really stick long." Harry chuckles. "I could have ended up like you. I hated them - the Dursleys - i mean. There were days that I was staring at the bars of my window that I thought, 'I wish I could use magic to make them dissapear.' I hated them. But I knew that I was there because my parents loved me enough to die for me, and I guess that was enough to allow others in. You never had that. Instead you had a mother who died after potioning your father into a marriage, and instead of a warm welcome to Hogwarts, you were sorted into Slytherin and ostracized for being a mudblood. I had Dumbledore and my friends to care for me, but you only had a suspicious professor and Slughorn to show for." 

Tom couldn't breathe. Tears were threatening to fall by the end of what Harry said. "You shouldn't.", he choked out. 

"Shouldn't what?" 

"Forgive me." 

"Why?" 

"Why? _Why?_ " he stood up from the bench and stared at the man. His voice a few octaves higher now and his tinee incredulous. "I killed at 16! I tore my own soul up! I started the most hypocritical war to be ever held, I've tortured muggles, muggle-borns, half-bloods, purebloods and my followers alike! I've killed thousands! I killed your parents and made your life as miserable as mine!", his eyes were pleading, tears were falling freely. Harry was giving him what he wanted - redemption, forgiveness - and yet it was _he_ that could not allow Potter to forgive him. 

"I forgive you." The man's voice stronger with conviction this time. 

"But why?" He didn't understand the other man at all. 

"Because you... you aren't Voldemort. You're Tom Riddle." 

Tom scoffed. "Then you are a fool to think that." 

Harry shakes his head, "Voldemort was the result of your fears taking hold. I don't believe for a moment that he was you." 

"What don't you understand?" He shouted, his ocean-blue eyes leveled an icy glare upon Harry, "Tom. Marvolo. Riddle - _I. am. Lord. Voldemort_. We aren't separate. He is me and I, him. Tom Riddle didn't separate from him, _he became him_ I can't just shirk what I did because, apparently I had a shitty childhood. Voldemort doesn't exist without Tom Riddle just as much as Harry Potter is not The-Boy-Who-Lived." Harry was about to retort when he put up his hand, signalling for him to stop, "You may try to deny it, but The-Boy-Who-Lived is also Harry Potter, a different side, yes, but the same man, nonetheless." He was breathless by the end of it all. 

_He is right_ , Harry somewhat supposes. But still... "Then I suppose, I could forgive Voldemort as well." 

Tom is stunned by it all... he couldn't understand the man that was in front of him. How could Potter remain so selfless even in death? When he has taken so much from him? 

"I've long decided to forgive you Tom. You won't be able to do anything to change my mind, no matter what you say. Seeing those memories about you... I cried for you... for us. I felt for you. Voldemort took and took and took, this is more than true enough." Tom flinches at this. Harry gestures for him to sit back down, which he does. "But I knew back then that I wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully at night hating you. For so long... I thought that I wanted you dead. And though I do not regret what I did, I felt guilt for killing a stranger so similar to me. I had to let go." Harry tore his eyes away from Tom as he remembered. "When you died, they wanted to burn your body - they wanted to forget everything - but I had you buried in Hogwarts, it was your home, that much I was sure of. Because I have found that forgetting and moving on are two different things. And this was how I let go, I forgave you." 

Tom looked into Harry's eyes and saw the unmistakeable sincerity in them. He was more than moved. "Thank you. It is more than I could possibly deserve, for what it's worth I _am_ sorry... Thank you." 

\--  
  
"Boys.", a gentle voice called out. The two men turned around to see, a familiar set of blue twinkling eyes hiding behind half-moon spectacles. It was Albus wearing an atrocious bright yellow robe printed with lemons and purple wizard's hat. 

"Dumbledore" "Professor", the boys said at the same timee. 

"Walk with me.", he said. 

The moment they stood up, however, Dumbledore took a step forward and hugged them in a tight embrace. When he pulled away there were tears in the eyes of all three men. 

"There are so many things I wish to tell you both - so many apologies needing to be said. And many bags of lemon drops to be given for my gratefulness." 

Harry chuckles. "Where are we heading, Professor?" 

"Why, our next adventure of course!", he said stopping by the train's entrance. 

Harry sighed. "I had forgotten that you have a knack of speaking in riddles." He suddenly laughed realizing his own pun, "HA! Riddles", wiping the remaining tears in his eyes, he then looked to Tom who gave him a deadpan stare. 

"I had suddenly remembered, that there was a reason I hated my name." he shakes his head, but smiles fondly. 

A looming figure suddenly appears by the entrance. A tall blonde man eyes sparkling with mirth, smirking at the three men. "Greetings mortals, I am Death", the man said. 

Harry looks curiously upon the man, and blurts out, "You're Death?", then Harry blushes. He imagined Death to be hooded in a black cloak with a scythe but... he had to admit, damn, Death was _hot_

Death shot him a look that told him he knew what he was thinking about and said, "You mortals have the silliest ideas of what I look like. Although I gather that some people probably saw a dementor sucking someone's soul and thought that that was me." He sighs. He gives the three men a critical eye nd says, "Never, in the history of the universe, had I ever had been given so much trouble, as the three of you had." 

Death was glaring at them and they paled. Did it mean bad things for their afterlife? None of them knew. "If you had noticed, the three of you have been kept in Limbo, with you-" he points at Dumbledore, "-given task to wait and talk to both of them." then points at Harry and Tom. Death sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. "The reason being... the three of you are the only ones to ever own all three hallows - this close in proximity." 

Tom's brows furrow in confusion, "I've only ever owned one. And I don't think it even truly recognized me as its master." 

"I'll explain later but first. YOU." he glares at Albus' way. "Seriously? Why? Just why are you so stubborn in searching for the Hallows? Of course it didn't matter if said object was so obviously cursed, you just had to 'examine' it!" 

Then he looks at Tom, "And you! You _horcrux-making snake-faced arsehole_ \- do you have any idea just how much I want to wring your neck? One horcrux was bad enough let alone seven!" Tom paled more over what Death had said. _'Good! He ought to be frightened over the headaches he's given me._

Then he looked at Harry, he shakes his head exasperatedly, "I don't even know where to begin with you. First you survive the killing curse. Then you survive him, a dragon and countless other _shit_ , then ANOTHER killing _fucking_ curse! Do you have any idea just how much paperwork I had to do? How embarassing it was that the two of you-" pointing at Harry and Tom, "- just won't die?" 

"Well, I have been told I was impossible to kill menace." Harry chuckles nervously. _'I might be in danger.'_ his mind supplies. 

Death takes a deep breath and says, "Sorry, I just had to get that off from my chest. Long story short: The three of you are here because you have the option of going back or moving on. A re-do, one might say - to fix things." 

Confusion dawns on Albus' face, "Might I ask why?" 

"Like I said, the three of you are a headache. _Technically_ all three of you are the Master-s of Death. I'll explain - Albus won the wand from Grindlewald, he owned the cloak for 11 years before giving it to Harry and the Resurrection Stone a few months before dying. You mightn't have had them at the same time but the fact remains that you still did." He looks over to Harry. 

"Now, this might be easier and I might just have one master, if not for the timing that this happened. The switch of ownership between Albus and Harry was too close. And all the Hallows was bestowed to Harry by Albus. And Tom here is basically a stow-away in the looks of things. You and Harry or at least part of your soul have shared the same body for almost 18 years - and towards your final years - you shared the same blood - not to mention you owned The Gaunt Ring that had the Ressurection Stone in it making you the third Master of Death." He sighs. The three men' eyes are so wide, he thought they might actually bulge out of their sockets. 

"And I repeat: never in the history of time, have I ever had a case such as you three." 

\-- 

Silence was thick and tension permeated the air. No man knew how to react to this revelation, it took them a while before Harry could stutter out something similar to discernable words. 

"A- a re-do?" 

Death rolls his eyes. And nods. 

"Why?" Tom asked. His eyes narrowed, and his mind's gears shifting to understand. "Pardon for asking, but you are Death - is time even something you can control?" Tom asked skeptically. 

"Time is a continuous stream. I still collect souls of those who have died before to now. I'm simply sending you all back." 

It was Albus' turn to speak, "If so, wouldn't we be in danger at all? I-I may not be very well briefed with the subject of time, but I do know bad things happen to people who meddle with them." he asked worriedly. 

Death and Harry snort, "Says the man that sent two 13-year-old back in time." 

Tom looked at Albus with wide eyes asking for the silent question of confirmation, to which Albus replied, "That was different, I was sending them back a couple of hours, you are talking of a century's worth of travel." 

"Your minds and body will be protected by my magic and the nature of your presence there. Even if you are forced with Legilimency and Veritaserum, no one will ever know lest you tell them of your own volition. It won't be an alternate dimension either, simply a clean slate from that point in time." 

"When?" Harry asked. 

"1943, before snake-face here made his first kill." 

"But I wasn't even born then." Harry says. 

"I am Death, little Potter." He rolls his eyes tiredly, at this point he was either going to have a migraine or retinal damage over the times he has rolled his eyes by the hour. "If you think it much impossible for me, the you could simply move on" 

The three men looked at one another and Tom spoke for them, he shook his head and said, "No. This- this is a chance to correct so many wrongs. With the risk of sounding like Potter - and to save other people. I regret it. Making the horcruxes and becoming Voldemort, it won't happen again." Tom was determined. 

They have all decided.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sources:
> 
> 1 A verse from "Think of Me" from Phantom of the Opera  
> 2 Line taken from "The Greatest Salesman" by Og Mandino  
> 3 A line from Memoirs of The Master of Death by Arithra
> 
> Inspired by Second Life by Lillyleaf101


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 

A familiar buzz filled the great hall as they took in the sight of a striking young man, obviously too old to be a first year student. Nobody could tear their curious stares away from Harry as he glided down through the hall. And no wonder, the boy had a presence about him that just commands you to bask in it. Combine that with the boy's physical attrributes - surely it was impossible for someone like this boy to go anywhere without being noticed. 

The boy had an unruly chin-lengthed raven hair that had hints of auburn which made a beautiful contrast to his eyes. And oh! The boy's eyes were the clearest and most vivid emerald orbs that they had ever seen - never mind the fact that it was still hidden behind round glasses - its color would still put the forest's green shades pale in shame. 

"I have a few start of term notices I wish to announce." Headmaster Dippet's voice rang throughout forcing them to turn their heads away from the boy. 

"The first years please note that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, we have a transferee student who was previously homeschooled and I expect you all to make the first years and our transferee feel at home in Hogwarts." 

At the announcement Headmaster Dippet returned to his seat as Professor Dumbledore began calling out to the students. 

"When I call your name, you will come forth, I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you will be sorted into your houses." 

"Abott, Davidson" 

The boy tensely walked towards the stage and sat on the stool to have the hat placed upon his head. A few moments later the hat's cries bellowed, "Ravenclaw!" 

"Avery, William" 

"Slytherin!" 

"Jigger, Alyzza" 

"Hufflepuff!" 

"Justin, Jhune"

"Slytherin!"

Harry had always found watching the sorting ceremony enjoyable. It was fun to observe the first years come up jittery, nervous, tense or confident then come down to their houses with happy, polite, hesitant or even smug smiles on their faces. 

This time, though, he found himself tuning out the ceremony as he lost himself to his own thoughts. Two months have passed since Albus, Tom and himself have found themselves flung a century back into the past. There was a certain amout of culture-shock Harry had felt upon arrival. 

It was good then, that there was an adequate amount of time for the three men to plan their stay. Firstly, Harry had needed an identity - _his parents didn't even exist yet!_. The easiest option was of course, to assume that he was a previously homeshooled child because he has no paper trails in any schools. Next, he would have had to come from a well-off family - half-blooded at least, since there were only a few people who had the license to provide homeschooling. 

In the end they decided that it would be best to have him take the role of Professor Dumbledore's son. A few well placed compulsions to the correct people gave Harry the proper documents to properly _exist_ in the time period, and of course more than a few obliviates. 

This made it easier for them to explain his familiarity with the Professor and of the school even if he was not present. Harry Albus Dumbledore was born on July 31, 1927 - to a muggle woman (that died the same day - allowing them to claim her death via childbirth) by the name Lilith Sanders and Albus Dumbledore. 

From then, it was only a few blood rituals that Tom had provided- 

_"I better not end up looking like a snake after this" Harry said earning him a scathing glare from Tom and a booming laugh from Albus._

\- so that they were able to slightly alter his appearance to resemble Albus. 

Harry's thoughts wandered back to his first sorting - how awkward he felt having everyone's attention on him when he was so used to being invisible. It was then that he became The-Boy-Who-Lived rather than _just Harry_. 

He supposes that in whichever era he is in, he was bound to draw attention from people - but he wasn't going to shy away from the spotlight this time. After defeating Voldemort, becoming Head Auror, _marrying Ginny_ , having a family - he learned how to truly be himself and be secure, confident and safe in the knowledge that he was who he was and no amount of word of mouth was going to change that. 

He was only brought out of his reverie when a familiar name was called out from Dumbledore's lips. 

"Hagrid, Rebeus" Albus had said with a gentle smile and twinkling eyes. 

A shy boy, towering everyone - including Harry - emerged from the crowds and took a seat on the stool. Anger and irritation started to bubble in Harry as Hagrid's appearance made a lot of students gossip and snicker. 

A few moments later, the hat yelled, "Gryffindor!" 

Harry beams. 

\-- 

Tom's POV 

The express ride had always been something that Tom has looked forward to because it took him home. But being back in Platform 9¾ has him the most nervous he's been in _decades_ \- well, centuries if you count the time in Limbo. 

He was coming home after so long. Guilt crashes upon him in waves and tears begin to gather in his eyes as he boards the train. _He destroyed it._ Hogwarts. After all the days that it gave him comfort, the days where he could truly feel happy - he destroyed it. He tore down its wards, blew up its walls and proceeded to slaughter the students that the school aimed to protect. 

Tom could only hope he could keep the tears in once he saw his friends. Yes. _Friends._ He could admit that now. Back then he always thought _fond_ of them but he would not consider them friends. Never. He thought that having such relations were a weakness but Potter had proved him otherwise. To the end of their lives, The Knights have always remained loyal by his side. Not by fear but because they truly believed in him - _That he could make things better_. Oh, Merlin, how wrong they'd been. 

Taking a seat at the prefect's carriage he only hoped that the book he had opened would distract him long enough until his rounds. 

_Fuck._ Tom was avoiding checking up on The Knight's carriage - it was so out of character that he would be nervous seeing them that Tom could only have a tad bit of an identity crisis. He shouldn't be nervous, he internally chastises himself. But Abraxas had already waved him over. 

"Riddle!" Abraxas all but screamed. 

Tom caught in the sight of the boy with platinum blonde hair and was immediately assaulted with the memories of Abraxas' son Lucius. Oh, Merlin after everything that Abraxas and Lucius had done for him, what did he do? He plundered the Malfoy family wealth, tortured and had Abraxas' boy imprisoned. _Threatened his grandson_ into killing someone. He only wondered what Abraxas would say should he know. 

Tom willed his face to remain blank as he greeted The Knights. "Malfoy, Mulciber, Nott, Black." he nods in acknowledgement. 

Merlin help him. 

\-- 

Albus' POV 

The sorting began as usual for Albus with him calling out the names of the children and him placing the hat upon their heads. But this sorting was different - he felt deeply conflicted. Part of him still felt that he was still sixty-three but another part of him felt otherwise. 

He wasn't fair, he long ago realized this - he condemned the students of one house automatically believing them to be dark. A part of him still feels this but he knows better. 

He didn't do right by Ariana, Aberforth, Newt, Tom, Hagrid, Severus and ultimately Harry - the list could go on. For all that he claimed to be a good person, he definitely was pants at it. He's going to do better this time - he won't let such things happen again. 

As he calls a familiar face unto the stool, he all but beams when Hagrid was placed into his house. He catches a look on Tom's face that he would have perceived blank if not for the apologetic sheen in his eyes. It was then that he knew, a person's fate had already changed. 

Calling upon the last of the first years made Albus feel giddy with excitement. Harry was going to be sorted again! Much more - he had a son! Making the adoption had Albus in tears, he had always felt like a somewhat grandfather for the young boy - but he so foolishly thought that his blood relatives would take care of the boy if not love him. 

He sighs, he himself should've been proof that sometimes blood doesn't matter in terms of care and love. _Ariana_ , he thought back guiltily. He gently shakes his head as if to clear is thoughts. 

He looks at the only person remaining in the hall to be sorted. And he flashes Harry a sparkling smile to which the boy returns a grin of his own. He smiles some more as he calls out, "Dumbledore, Harry!" 

\-- 

Harry's POV 

The great hall erupts in scattered noise as they heard the mysterious boy's name called. All eyes were upon Harry as he walked towards the stool to be sorted with natural confidence and practiced grace - internally thanking Hermione for all those etiquette lessons that she found it proper to teach him. 

\-- 

Albus' POV 

As Albus placed the sorting hat upon Harry's head, the great hall went rigid in silence as they waited in bated breath for the boy to be sorted. Albus wonders if Harry will allow the hat to have its way with him this time and be sorted into Slytherin. 

How exciting! If you ask Albus, then of course he would say that he would want Harry in his house - however, people change over time and sometimes what they were then is not what they need to be now. Plus, Albus has always believed that they sorted students too early. 

Albus remembers the hat talking to him in his own sorting about how he would make a good snake but being in the house of lions would make it so, so that no one would see him coming. He chuckles. 

A few moments later, the hat announces, "Better be, Slytherin!" 

If the hall was noisy earlier, he didn't know what to call it now. There was no applause instead there was not-so-hushed whispers going on and a lot of shocked and downright gaping faces. Even Tom's normal compusure was gone and replaced with utter confusion - they hadn't told him what the hat said about Harry yet. 

He takes the hat off of Harry and holds him by his arm to whisper something in his ear before he dissapears by the tables. 

"Goodluck, my dear boy. Say hello to our confused lordling over there for me." Harry looks over to Tom's confused face then right into Albus' twinkling blue eyes causing the boy to erupt into melodious laughter. 

"Of course, Dad." The boy says with a smirk. Mirth clear in his eyes. Albus wondered then, if the twinkling was a genetic trait that could be passed on. He remembers Severus' incessant complaining about his eyes and seeing it in another person - especially one as incredible as Harry - has him in pride. 

\-- 

Harry was wondering if he was evil in wanting to mess with Tom's Death Ducklings - but really, who was he to deny himself? Walking towards the empty seat beside Tom, Harry mishieviously thought to himself, _Let the games begin_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to: Life in Full Bloom by TheIronTreeBlooms


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry to keep you guys waiting - so much was going on at school and Math... suckkkss bigtime.

Chapter 3 

The Slytherins were still reeling over the fact that this boy was sorted into their house when said subject sat down beside Tom Riddle. Disdain immediately became adamant in faces of the students in the snake house. 

Slytherins have a hiearchy, you see, that must always be followed - and Tom Riddle was Prince - and lest he request you sit beside him, then and only then can you do so. 

But when they saw their prince slide to the left make space for the boy, they supposed that Tom probably allowed it so that he could get to know the boy. Tom Riddle was a magpie after all. And a magpie liked to collect shiny things and in this case, Tom took those shiny objects - those that had power and influence - and inducted them to The Knights of Walpurgis - his inner circle. It was common sense to the snakes to want in, they'd do just about anything to be in. 

Abraxas Malfoy was one of the first to overcome his own uncharacteristic state of stupor. Malfoys didn't ogle after all. 

He cleared his throat and looked at the boy but found that the boy cut him off before he could even begin to speak. 

"Hi! Name's Harry, you must be a Malfoy", giving Abraxas' hair a gesturing look. "I've heard a lot about you." The boy said. 

Abraxas resisted the urge to preen when the boy- _Harry_ recognized him. Tom had told him off of it once - and that was enough. He didn't wish to lose his Lord's favor over something plebian as his preening tendencies. 

\-- 

In his glory days, Harry has attended a function too many to finally get the hang of the art of talking to people. Back at Hogwarts should one address him directly he would never know how to hold a conversation without it becoming an awkward mess. 

But the galas, functions and of course his years in the DMLE. He learned that it was only finding the perfect balance. Like riding a bike - keeping the conversation going - not quite small talk but not quite personal. A touch friendly but not enough to be pressumptive. Yes, that makes sense. Don't question it. 

By appealing to the infamous Malfoy pride, Harry has already begun spinning the boy into his web. 

"Indeed. My name is Abraxas Malfoy, merry-met." Slipping into his emotioness mask, the blonde boy said, cooly offering his hand. 

And by Merlin, the boy looked exactly like the Malfoy of his own time. Except Draco was a bit leaner, Harry observed, which should be obvious given his aspirations in Quidditch 

_I wonder if this Malfoy plays Quidditch_ Harry, pondered as he shook the young boy's hand. 

Following Abraxas' introduction, the Knights began introducing themselves to Harry one by one. 

"Charles Avery." 

"Frederick Lestrange." 

"Nathaniel Mulciber." 

"Ralston Nott" 

"Ettiene Mulciber." 

"It's nice to meet you all, Harry Dumbledore." 

It was then that Tom looked at him and said, "Tom Riddle." Who then caught Harry's curious glance at the boy a seat away from Tom, whose nose was behind a book. 

"Don't concern yourself with him, he just prefers books over people. His name is Abel Dolohov." 

Looking in an outsider's perspective, it was obvious that Tom was no older than the rest of the boys but it was obvious that they held him as their leader. And at this point in time, Harry knew that Tom already went by Voldemort to a few of his followers. 

But before further talks with Tom could be allowed, another boy rushed hurriedly in the hall and called out to the rest. The action in itself so un-Slytherin that Abraxas looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. 

"Dear Merlin, Erik will you keep your voice down?" 

"Sorry, 'bout that but you're in my spot." 

"If you were here earlier then it would still be yours." 

Tom merely smiled as the others laughed. It was the same smile the he saw Riddle use in the pensieved memories. Tom made it seem like he was friends with them but Harry knew he held no attachment. Of course, not that he was privy to Tom's earlier thoughts, Harry continued to observe the interactions between the boys. 

The newcomer finally took notice of him and said, "Who are you?" 

Harry offered up his hand again, "Harry Dumbledore, I'm a transferee." 

"We have a new student?" He looked to the others to survey for an answer when he stopped frozen, 

"Wait. Did you say Dumbledore?" Erik stared. "Are you like, related to the Professor?" 

"Way to be subtle Erik." Dolohov drawled. Harry chuckled. He couldn't see Dolohov's face but he somehow knew that he rolled his eyes behind his book. 

Harry took on a sheepish look and said, "Yeah, he's my dad." 

Tom's lips twitched upward, amused with the reaction of his Knights. They just stared at Harry unblinking. Tom tried to stifle his laughter to no avail, the action now drawing everyone's attention to him.Tom never laughed. He gave a polite smile and a small chuckle here and there but he never laughed. 

Erik, however was undetterred and wanted to know more and began bombarding Harry with questions. "Y-your dad? Like- the Gryffindor? Transfigurations Professor - Dumbledore? 'I don't like Slytherins but will still act like it' - Dumbledore? Your _dad?_ Are you sure? How is that- I didn't even know he was married. Wait- what?" 

Harry grinned, "Yup." Popping the p, with his lips. "Shocking isn't it? But I never did quite catch your name." 

"Its..um.. Erik Crouch. Nice to meet c'ha. What year are you in?" 

"I'm a fifth year. I suppose you guys are too?" 

"Yup. So, what brings you to Hogwarts? I mean if your dad teaches here, why didn't you go here in the first place?" 

"I was homeschooled since Dad wanted me closeby for a while, but he's going to be busy this year. So, now I'm here." Harry didn't miss the way that the curious looks only got more adamant. Harry took it a good time to change the topic before they could ask anymore questions. 

"So... can you tell me more about Hogwarts? I've heard a lot about it from dad, but I would certainly love to hear it from your perspective." Harry said eagerly. 

Suffice to say, dinner was an interesting affair. 

\-- 

The Slytherin Common Room hasn't changed much at all. It was always a point of pondering for Harry - that no wonder the Slytherins always acted so high and mighty. How could they not when they probably had the poshest common room in all of Hogwarts? Scratch that, it didn't even look anywhere like a common room. 

The room despite being in the dungeons, had high ceilings - baronial in style, housing fancy leather couches and seats. Tapestries upon tapestries depicting the house's history were hung upon the brick-built wall and in the center of it all - a fireplace with arches that were carved and enchanted with moving snakes. Nevermind the large windows that showed the murky waters of the Black Lake.

"Congratulations!" Tom's familiar voice called out to the first years currently gathered in the room. 

"I'm Prefect Tom Riddle, and I'm delighted to welcome you to Slytherin. Our emblem is the serpent, the wisest of creatures; our house colours are emerald green and silver, and our common room lies behind a concealed entrance down in the dungeons. 

Hogwarts, indeed, has more than plenty to offer - but before you embark on your journey, let us dispel a few myths. 

Some of you may or may not have heard that Slytherins are only into the Dark Arts and that we will only speak to you if your great-great grandfather was a famous wizard. 

But allow me to clear it up for you - I will not deny that many of us snakes do indeed have an affinity to the Dark Arts but do not confuse dark with evil. And while we have produced our fair share of dark wizards-" _Talk about ironic_ , Tom thought. 

"-so have the other three houses-they simply do not wish to admit it. And while it might help you to have good ancestry, you will find that we would value your talent above all else. 

Today, you become a Slytherin. Learn how to play the game and believe that this **is** your place. We are the house of cunning and ambition. 

I tell you now, have all the arguments you want within these walls, fight, duel if you must. But outside these walls, we stand as one. 

Loyalty is a trait not only for Hufflepuffs. The other houses will hate on you because the tie around your neck is green and the emblem upon your chest carries our serpent. _Because you are a Slytherin_

More often than not it will feel as if being sorted in our house is a burden to bear rather than an honor that is bestowed. The hat placed you here for a reason. Because it **saw in you** the potential _to be great_

And despite centuries of persecution our house has persevered and succeeded. We rose above all. And you - the next generation should not allow the very same walls to crumble upon the pressure that you will feel. The other houses know nothing about us, and that is to our advantage. 

In the real world, it is us who have led the wizarding world to prosper - most of the Wizengamot, the Minister, and Merlin himself was a Slytherin. What is stopping you from following suit? 

_We are Slytherins and we strive to be the best._ You can be braver, wiser, smarter and more loyal than any of the other houses. You do not have to fit in with rest of the school, instead trust a few - trust your own, ask us prefects - it matters not. Strive for excellence and success will soon follow. 

A few more things you might need to know: our house ghost is the Bloody Baron. If you get on the right side of him he'll sometimes agree to frighten people for you. Just don't ask him how he got bloodstained; he doesn't like it. And our Head of House is Professor Horace Slughorn - who will also be your Potions Professor. 

The password to the common room changes every fortnight. Keep an eye on the noticeboard. Never bring anyone from another house into our common room or tell them our password as no outsider has come in for six centuries. 

This is the beginning of your seven years to Hogwarts. Welcome to Slytherin." 

Contemplation filled the room as Tom finished his speech. _Wow, he really does have a flare for drama_. And Harry could see it now - it wasn't just because of the cause Tom spoke of. It was because of Tom himself that the Knights followed - minus the insanity, the man inspired true confidence and loyalty to those around him. And Harry himself couldn't help but feel a little awed at Tom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter inspired by;
> 
> • Welcome to Slytherin by TheFreedomSock
> 
> and of course some parts of the speech were taken in from Pottermore - Slytherin Welcoming Speech.
> 
> Names of the Knights were by:
> 
> https://weheartit.com/articles/339382229-the-knights-of-walpurgis-1942-1943
> 
> That's it! 'Till next timeeee. (Sorry for the grammar and typos)


End file.
